Fester
by Elven Cherry Blossom
Summary: What pushed Itachi to do it?  Why did he eliminate his own kin except Sasuke?  There had to be a reason for it...


Title: Fester

Author: Elven Cherry Blossom

Summary: What pushed Itachi to do it? Why did he eliminate his own kin except Sasuke? There had to be a reason for it...

Rating: PG/PG-13

Disclaimer: I wish I could purchase the rights to some of the characters, but until that happens...Don't own it, wish I did. Suing me would be a waste of your time.

Please review!!! Constructive criticism and good feedback are more than welcome! Now, on with the fic!

He was the prodigy. The boy who graduated the academy at 7, the leader of the ANBU at 13. He had the praising acknowledgement and fame that went along with the title. But that wasn't enough...

He knew that without his accomplishments that he would be nothing to his family, to the clan. His parents thought he was weird. Even his cousin, his best friend, didn't regard him as a real equal or a necessity.

Sasuke, however, chased after him. Begged to be trained by him. Begged for his elder brother's time. Wanted, needed to be something to his brother.

That is why he lived. The clan wanted him to do what they wanted. They thought he could be a puppet, pull his strings, coax him into getting them power. That's how he knew that he was powerful. Because he was the one who they were using to achieve power. They couldn't do it themselves. It made him feel like a necessity, but also left him feeling cold and bitter.

He didn't care for the blood. Didn't care about the lives of his enemies. He enjoyed knowing that he was the best, that he had control. That is when the strings became thinner and started to snap.

He didn't see the reason to keep it up. They wanted power. He found a way to get more. But they regarded him coldly after that. He was beyond their control, they refused to admit it, and instead pretended that they were ashamed of him. He could tell that they would be willing to turn him over for what he had done. He realized that they were done pulling the strings. Freedom, relief...but that meant that he was nothing to them. The attention was getting turned to Sasuke, the boy who still needed him. Some bitterness, but not as much as he felt for the clan. They kept an eye on him but didn't pick up the strings.

But it was too late. They had pulled the strings for thirteen years. They made him achieve power for thirteen years. The hunger for power was now engraved into him. The former puppeteers could not pick up the strings again, but only watch what the free boy could do. Grit their teeth, argue...to no avail.

They only kept an eye on him out of fear, not love, not pride, not necessity. This gave the boy a bit of a thrill. He made his elders afraid of him. The ones who used to control him saw him as a threat. His former friend had not noticed until the second before he died. That one couldn't escape, neither would they.

Useless to them, scorned for being a threat, the bitterness began to fester.

Glimmering idol to the village, holier-than-thou boy to the elders. Necessity to only one. Sasuke still needed him.

He decided that they meant nothing to him. The motivation, the control they once had, there was no need for it. He was stronger than all of them. He didn't-no, he wouldn't have them hold him back with the holier-than-thou attitude and the great principles they themselves did not truly believe in.

They wanted him eliminated, he was astute enough to know that. However, they did not want to dirty their hands. That is what they had used him for until then.

The clan and its prodigy. Each sought the elimination of the other. The clan wanted their name clean of scandal, so they only watched him and waited. He waited too...for the right moment. He was not afraid to dirty his hands, because they were already stained.

He sneered and enjoyed his triumph. Mother's death would have been less painful had she not upset him. Pleading him to stop, trying to force him to believe the ideas of the clan. Still, he felt pity for her. She had been used as well, so her death was quick.

Then the storm ended. The boy who wanted to be him, looked at the aftermath in horror. Cried and plead, much like mother had, but different. He plead for his life. A selfish plea. Becoming like him already with the clan gone and unable to influence him. Self-survival was his goal.

He knew the little boy wanted power, so that he could survive, but also because he noticed that the boy wanted the fame and power of being the best. If that was what he wanted then he had to know that suffering, bitterness and rage were necessary. But more important than that was the one goal. There had to be a need, a purpose behind the festering emotions that left room for nothing else.

Suffering, realizing you are alone. Something the prodigy knew for years. Something that Sasuke was now realizing. Realization that no one could defend him against his elder brother.

Bitterness, realizing that you are alone and nothing can fill up the emptiness. For the prodigy it was the fame, no one touched the glimmering idol, but were content to stand to the side and watch him in awe or sneakily try to get ahead of him. Sasuke realized that the dead cannot come back, ever. The people who he wanted to love him would never adore him because they were dead at the hands of the one that he wanted to be.

Rage, unadulterated loathing. Sasuke had some of the power to hurt him, but Itachi had a stronger form of it. His had been allowed to fester and develop.

The younger had all the makings. Still...

"Foolish brother, if you wish to kill me, hate me, detest me, and survive in an unsightly way. Run, run and cling to life."

He needed the right motivation.

He knew that no one from the village would understand why he spilt the blood of his kin. That they used him and then hated him when he simply tried to do as they had told him to do. They had no use for him, so he had none for them. They never needed him, they were prepared to drop him at a moment's notice. They could always try and mold and direct the younger, who was ready to have his strings pulled.

The poor boy. He was capable of so much, the clan would only hold him back from what he could do. Like Itachi, who was now free of the strings, the control, and critical, self-righteous gaze of the Uchiha and could become stronger than they could have ever imagined.

Sasuke could be great because he got to live. Because Itachi had meant something to him. He had given the prodigy reason to keep going with life and as a result grow stronger. The least Itachi could do was return the favor.

A shame. He wanted someone to be proud of. The boy still clung to the self-righteous ideas of his late kin.

He just needed to push the boy over the edge. Itachi was anything but conventional. The path to power was the same.

"You still lack it. Hatred, that is."

The boy lay crumpled on the ground like a rag doll. But he did not cry and plead for his life. He glared at his brother, angry with himself for not being able to kill his elder.

Self-interest, self-preservation. The knowledge that he had a purpose, one person to keep him motivated. Sasuke didn't have to worry about feeling needed like he had. For him, the hate just needed more time to fester.


End file.
